


In Between

by thealphagate_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-26
Updated: 2006-04-26
Packaged: 2019-02-02 12:33:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12726666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealphagate_archivist/pseuds/thealphagate_archivist
Summary: Tag to fallen.  Daniel’s thoughts between arriving on Vis Uban to his being found.





	In Between

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the archivists: this story was originally archived at [The Alpha Gate](https://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Alpha_Gate), a Stargate SG-1 archive, which began migration to the AO3 in 2017 when its hosting software, eFiction, was no longer receiving support. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are this creator and it hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Alpha Gate collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/thealphagate).

  
Author's notes: Tag to fallen. Daniel’s thoughts between arriving on Vis Uban to his being found.  


* * *

Walking. Arrom spent many hours walking alone. He preferred being alone. In the village he felt lost. These were people who did not belong anywhere, just as Arrom assumed to be his self. These people had pasts, they had family, and they had purpose. In their kindness they gave him a home, gave him clothing and food. But they could not give him reassurance that this was where he belonged. In truth he spent many hours contemplating his existence. 

There were a few things that Arrom took on assumption. One, he hadn’t always been like this; his body carried scars enough to show him that he had indeed lived somewhere else before. Two, obviously not all of his memory was missing seeing as he could perform basic tasks and speak the language of the people he now lived among. Three, he felt incredibly frustrated. With no memory it was hard to imagine any existence other than this one. He spent many hours trying to remember anything. Even if it was just his name it would have been something, but the only name he knew was the one the villages gave him. Arrom. The naked one. Every time he heard that name, he felt shame. For what purpose could he have been sent here? Why would he have no memory? The only conclusion he could fathom was that this must be a kind of punishment. Perhaps he did something so terrible and unforgiving that he was exiled into this non existence. 

To have no memory of his identity before meant that the man he had been was gone, dead, and so maybe this was a form of death sentence? A death sentence with a second chance at redemption. The more he considered the possibility, the more convinced he felt it to be true. He felt in his heart that something terrible had happened, he’d done something so horrible that even without remembering he could feel the weight of it on his chest. 

If he was truly as horrible as he was coming to believe, then it could happen again and that was something he intended to fight against. The good people of the village deserved to be protected from that possibility. The more the villagers reached out to offer friendship and comfort, the more Arrom withdrew. Thankfully it did not take long for most of them to stop trying.

Away from the village he felt peace, and it brought him even more comfort to walk among the ruins of the old city. The faded script along some of the stone walls drew his attention in particular. The script was too faint to put together into anything concrete, but in studying them he felt a ghost of familiarity that… that scared him more that he was willing to admit. The more he stared at it, the more familiar it felt until finally a word formed. FOUNDATION. It was then that more of the script started making sense. Before his eyes, patterns began to form, patterns forming words, forming sentences, and forming…

He backed away far enough so that his eyes could no longer focus. He backed away farther so that the ruins themselves were mere blurs of structure. The gravity of what had just happened urged him farther from the ruins. If he could learn, or rather remember how to decipher the script on these ruins, then maybe he could remember other things as well. The possibility of memory was there, the key to unlocking something of his previous self lay buried somewhere within his head, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to unlock it. 

As the days passed Arrom was careful to avoid the ruins. 

The day the strangers came through the Chap’ai, he purposely took an even wider route than usual in order to avoid them. What he understood from talk in the village was that no one had come through the Chap’ai in a very long time. 

The fact that he came upon the strangers regardless of his trying to avoid him only managed to darken his mood. Dressed in green they turned and stared at him, raising their weapons threateningly. Moments later the weapons lowered. “Doctor Jackson?” 

Arrom stopped walking. He didn’t answer. He’d barely heard it over the rapid beating of his heart. This was it. 

“Doctor Jackson?” The man repeated. 

Arrom could not answer. 

They all just sort of stood there blinking at him. “It’s him.” A woman whispered. “I’m sure of it.” 

A thousand thoughts crowded Arrom’s mind all at once. These people knew him, these people had weapons, if these people wanted something what could he could do to stop them? If he did resist, would these people harm the villagers? 

And so he said. “What do you want?”

“Doctor Jackson,” The woman of the group stepped forwards and reached out a tentative hand. 

Arrom stepped away. “Doctor Jackson?” He said it slowly, testing the name on his tongue, but it sounded as foreign coming from his own mouth as it did coming from hers.

The woman nodded tentatively. “How, uhm, you are Doctor Jackson aren’t you?” 

“I don’t know.”

End


End file.
